Dancing in the Dark
by Cat-and-Canary
Summary: (AU/the new curse with a twist) Regina is a dancer with broken dreams living in Jersey, Robin is a corporate raider, based out of London. Can love win out over distance, but more importantly old scars? (Story skirts the edge of a true M story, and will be M in pt 4)
1. Chapter 1

"I just spiced it up a bit," the green witch mocked.

"We will find a way to defeat you," Regina said defiantly.

Zelena tisked. "How imaginative sis," she laughed with a snort, rolling her eyes.

"Do you really think that Storybrooke is the only place you can be sent? What an amateur," Zelena sniffed dismissively. "There will be no 'we.' Not only will you not know who you are, you'll be flung so far apart that you won't even know each other," Zelena explained, a cruel smile twisting her face.

"Pay attention sis. This is how you take away a happy ending," she said, nodding at Regina.

The witch strutted to her broom, her laughter seeming to echo through the chamber long after she had gone.

* * *

Another day another dollar. Literally, she thought, a sneer marring her beautiful face.

God, she hates the crumpled singles that kept her tied to that damn stage. Pigs, all of them. Regina wished she could just wave her hand and turn them in to swine. She smiled at the fantasy.

The men who came to watch her dance at Forbidden Fruit disgusted Regina, but she needed their money to combat the crippling amount of debt her thoughtless mother had left her. That woman had never thought about another human being in her life. Cora had always been too busy scheming about how to get ahead in life and in the pursuit of her own dreams she had destroyed her daughter's.

Regina had wanted to be a dancer. A real dancer. She had even studied ballet and modern dance before Cora had forced her to go after a marketing degree instead. Then Cora had died and now Regina was stuck trying to pay off a debt that wasn't even her own. She could barely keep up with the bills and afford her converted loft studio. Her studio was her sanctuary, and fortunately it was rent controlled. The space was large and airy with a bedroom sectioned off, and a tiny are that served as a kitchen and living room. But what she really loved was the bulk of space she had left empty, placing laminate wood flooring over the concrete to dance.

The one bright spot in her life was Henry. Regina also worked part time as a dance instructor at the local YMCA and he was one of the foster kids who always seemed to be floating around the place. Of course none of the staff there knew about her evening work at the club. Those gray haired old biddies would never let someone like her near children otherwise. And she couldn't have that.

Her life may suck, but Regina loved that kid. He was always so happy to see her, sneaking past the tough and distant exterior she showed most adults. Regina would adopt him if she could, but it was impossible.

* * *

Everything was gray.

Robin blinked awake in his sky rise penthouse, staring balefully out the wall of glass that took up one side of the room. The cold slate sky seemed to suck the beauty from the London skyline. The austere design of the décor did nothing to break the soulless feel of the pace.

Maybe I should get a plant, he murmured to himself. A bit of green might be nice.

He really should do something to the place. Nothing about the sleek modern space was welcoming to a child.  
The only bright spot in the entire suite was little Roland's room, which was empty far too often. Hell, the child was the only bright spot in his life.

By necessity his boy was often left in the charge of his trusted secretary John. Robin had picked up the man on one of his business trips, Greenland this time, when he had put the bear of a man out of work. The giant was collateral damage in a hostile takeover, and John had no qualms about marching right up to Robin and scolding him like a child for over what closing the factory would do to the town's local economy.

Robin had respected the larger man's honesty and bravery, offering him a job on the spot. John accepted the offer on the condition that Robin would not leave the local people destitute and the pair had been together ever since.

Robin hated being separated from his son, but work called him away for international travel so frequently, it was simply better this way. He would take the child and John along when he could, but life crisscrossing the world was no way to build a home.

He rose to stretch knotted muscles, padding over to the window to look out on to the bustling city below. He loved his work, he adored his son. That was enough. It was.

Yet on morning like this one a doubt seemed to rise to just below the surface. Something was missing, and it would tease around the edges of his memory just out of reach. In these moments Robin would quickly bury the thought and turn his focus toward his work which consumed most of his time.

In the boardroom he was known as the Prince of Thieves due to his unusual business practices, but Robin wasn't fazed by the name. After the death of his wife due to a faulty medical component produced by a profitable but corrupt company he had purchased and failed to reform. He specialized in hostile takeovers of business that harmed the innocent or took advantage of people. There was no shortage of targets.

Losing Marion was the greatest mistake of his life and he had spent years trying to make up for that. Since the loss, Robin hasn't let anyone close. He didn't deserve it. Work and Roland. That was enough.

* * *

To do business with the worst of the worst sometimes you had to meet them where they lived.

In this case a seedy strip club which seemed to be on the bad side of an already questionable place called New Jersey.

Robin glanced around the intimate venue, taking in the women currently gyrating on two metal poles in the section of stage that jutted in to the crowd, as another set wound themselves around two poles placed at opposite ends of the stage proper.

"Good, we're just in time for a very special performance," Tommy DeLuca told him. Tommy D, as he preferred to be called, was a waste of a man. Corpulent and self-serving, he seemed to have a perennial leer and damp palms, but Robin needed information only he could provide if he wanted intel on a Jersey based corporation he had his eye on.

Tommy D pulled Robin forward, grabbing the last two seats in front of the stage. "She goes by Titania. She's kind of the queen of the club," Tony D said.

Suddenly all the light in the club went out, and the raucous crown settled in to silence. "You're going to like this one," the sweaty man said, nudging Robin in the side. Robin smoothed his well-tailored jacket, trying to shake off the other man's touch. He fought to control his features. It wouldn't do to show this idiot his disdain. Business sometime required an array of masks.

Suddenly the light came up, shades of red and purple revealing a woman. She was covered in a cloak of some kind, with the hood up.

The electronic beats of Dark Horse began and she started slinking toward the center of the stage. She turned to face away from the crowds hungry eyes, and then slipped back the hood to reveal raven hair. The slowly cloak dropped to reveal the smooth skin of her shoulders one at a time. He could see her body beginning to wind and she dropped the cloak completely.

The woman was clad in black leather. Not that there was much covered. Knee high stiletto boots revealed perfect thighs, and he could see a tiny pair of booty shorts and a racer back style top with two black straps crisscrossing the pearlescent skin of her torso back down to the shorts.

_"I'm capable of anything and everything. Make me your Aphrodite. Make Me your one and only."_

The woman turned to face them and her hands ghosted up her body as she twisted her hips, sinking to the floor. She put her hands on her knees as she crouched, quickly spreading her thighs apart then closed again, then rising to stick her ass out still bent over. The smack she gives it sends shivers down Robin's spine.

_"But don't make me your enemy."_

He would have sworn she looked right at him and winked before standing straight, slapping her hands on to her hipbones in a direct challenge. Robin shifted himself in his seat, never taking his eyes off her.

The dark haired woman strutted over to the pole, trailing her hand over the cold steel before gripping it tightly and taking a leisurely first swing around it, then moving to the pole at the very front of the stage.

She stopped, facing the crowd of men, lifting her hands overhead, grasping the pole again. Her breast heaved and rolled for a moment, then moving faster than a snake she spread her legs. Still bracing her hands above, the woman sank down in to a wide plié, and then turned her knees in, squeezing her thighs together as her head fell back against the cold metal.

Robin's mouth went dry.

She was toying with it. She was toying with them.

_"So you want to play with magic? Boy you should know what you're falling for. Baby, do you dare to do this? I'm coming at you like a dark horse."_

Suddenly she stood, turning to rhythmically undulate against the poll as if seducing a lover. The woman began twirling in earnest this time, gaining speed before lifting herself in to the air and striking a pose. She continued to defy gravity, contorting her body in air.

_"It's in the palm of your hand now baby. It's a yes or a no. No maybe."_

The woman began to circle back toward the ground, before gracefully dismounting. She lowered herself on the all fours, tossing her hair as she began to crawl, dropping her hips and pushing forward with each beat. Was she coming toward him? She was close enough to touch.

As if reading his mind she reached forward to tap his nose. His eyes went wide and she smiled.

The dark haired woman turns from facing him to stretches out her body before him, doing slow body rolls on the floor. A few deft movements later and she is holding court at the center of the stage once again.

_"Once you're mine there's no going back."_

Her strong legs power her effortlessly up the pole to what seems to a rather dangers height to Robin. The woman leans back, sustaining herself against gravity with only her thighs. Suddenly she spirals wilds toward the earth, descending in dizzying circles. The lights go black.

"Well what did you think?" Tommy D asks him, but Robin doesn't hear it. "Speechless, huh?" the pudgy man says, slapping Robin on the back. This seemed to break whatever spell was over him, and Robin managed a nod.

"It was something alright," he offered. "Now to business, if you don't mind."

Robin listened as Tommy D rattled off details pertinent to the prospective takeover, nodding ever so often to show he was still paying attention. Yet if he were to say his mind was completely on business, you could call him a liar. This simply would not do.  
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a flash of glossy black hair, and then it was gone out the door.

"Pardon me gentlemen," he said, excusing himself from the stoolie and his associate.

* * *

Tonight had been interesting, she thought, and Regina wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

She had spotted a man tonight and he has interested her. No one ever interested her. She could not wait to get home. Once Regina had locked eyes with that stranger it was as though he was the only one in the room. She had danced for him alone, and she hated it.

Regina took a deep breath and pushed open the exit door hoping to sneak out unseen. Normally she left the club with an escort at the end of the night, but she didn't feel like waiting around for her usual bouncer to walk her to her car. Most idiots couldn't even recognize her when her face was scrubbed clean and her hair was thrown in to a ponytail. They came for the fantasy, not for her.

The cool night air felt good on her heated cheeks as she walked quickly through the parking lot. Abruptly Regina heard the crunch of gravel behind her.

Damn it. She knew she should have grabbed Tiny to escort her out.

"Look buddy, I don't know what you want. I don't do lap dances. I'm a pole dancer, not a stripper. There is a difference. She spun on her heel to face the person following her. It was Well Cut Suit. Regina fought the flutter in her belly as she looked him up and down. "And I don't do house calls either," she said flatly.

He put his hands up. "I'm interested in nothing of the sort," he said with a soft accent that made the words seem like a caress.

She looked at him in distain. "I know guys like you. You always want something. You don't get a suit like that," she gestured with her hand, "by playing nice with others."

"I've offended you," Robin said, slightly ashamed of himself for following a woman he didn't know if to a parking lot. He wasn't all that sure of why he had done it. He just wasn't wanted her to leave.

He hesitated for a moment. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I don't drink."

"Dinner then," he countered.

"If I say yes will you leave me alone?" she asked.

What am I doing, she thought. Well, I can always not show.

She was breaking all of her rules tonight. But something in his face told her she could trust him.

Well all the crazies you hear about 'seemed so nice,' she thought darkly.

She watched as he took out a business card and wrote an address on the back.  
"Tomorrow. I'll send a car for you around 7:30," he said.

"No."

At his puzzled look, she elaborates.

"I may be bending a few rules here, but there is one I don't break. No one gets my address."

"Very well," he acquiesces with a slight bow of his head to her. "At least give me your name then. I can't be properly stood up if I don't know whom I'm waiting for."

Regina looked thoughtful for a moment. "You can call me Tania."

"I hope you come, Tania."

"We'll see," she said.

* * *

**A/N: This was originally part of my story for Outlaw Queen Week on Tumblr, but will continue with some pretty heavy edits and special thanks in the next installment. Also, REVIEWS are my air, so don't be shy, good or bad. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A HUGE thank you to Grace for her feedback about this chapter. You were amazing, and such a big help.**

* * *

Regina looked up at the completely nondescript façade of the building Robin had directed her to meet him at. She had actually walked right past it twice before noticing a small, discrete gold plaque with the number etched in it beside a delicate bell pull.

She tugged once on the cord and waited a moment.

Nothing happened.

She raised her hand to pull once again, and was startled when a hidden speaker sparked to life.

"Mademoiselle Tania, we have been expecting you," the disembodied voice said.

Two large wooden doors swung open to reveal a yawning darkness.

A man in a dark colored suit holding a silver candelabrum met Regina at the entryway, and wordlessly guided her down a long corridor. Now that her eyes had adjusted Regina could see that all way not black. Tiny pools of golden light spilled out from candles that dotted the expanse.

As she followed the man, she tried to take in her new surroundings. She may be straight Jersey, but that didn't mean she couldn't tell expensive furnishings when she saw them. Everything seemed to be tastefully understated, decorated in muted gold tones. Regina trailed a hand over the armrest of a seat tucked in to a shallow enclave along the hallway. The material felt like heaven.

Suddenly they stopped, and she had to jerk back to keep from slamming in to her guide.

They had reached another set large set of double doors, but these were covered in a plush red fabric, with metal studs punched in to the cloth, forming a diamond pattern. The man gave Regina a short bow, turned, and left her alone in front of the doors. For the first time she noticed how eerily quiet it was.

I really hope I don't regret this, she thought, questioning her sanity for at least the 10th time that night.

"What do you think?"

Regina practically jumped out of her skin at the sound, so foreign after all the silence.

"It's a little over the top if you ask me," Robin continued.

"What I think is that you're lucky I didn't have my mace out," Regina said.

"Were you expecting to be mugged? Here?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. That infuriating smile was back, the one that made her feel too much like a girl after all she had been through.

"I don't run from monsters. They run from me," she said haughtily.

He laughed at her black look, but he nodded with appreciation.

"I would hate to meet you in a dark alley. If I was on your bad side that is," he amended.

She felt her cheeks blush slightly at the visual his words evoked and Regina was glad of the low lighting.

"Well this place is unusual, I grant you. It came highly recommended and well, I'm not from the area," he said with a shrug.

"I hadn't noticed," Regina deadpanned.

"I don't take much personal time on my trips," Robin continued unfazed. "I thought we might enjoy this unique experience together."

"I'll bite. What exactly is this place?" she asked.

"It doesn't have a name. They specialize in sensory deprivation. It's used to heighten the remaining senses when another is stimulated." He settled a hand at the small of her back.

"Shall we?" Robin asked, stepping away to push one of the doors open. "My lady," he said with a small bow.

Regina entered the dimly lit space languidly. She could see a lone table in the center of a large room, a single candle at its middle. There was one chair with a low back that had been tucked under the table, as well as a single black leather blindfold, which looked like a black slash against the snowy white of the linen tablecloth.

"Ladies first," Robin said lightly, helping her out of her coat.

He slipped the coat from her shoulders, allowing the first glimpse of Regina's clothing. The neckline of the deep blue cocktail dress was high in the front, but plunged dangerously low in the back, keeping the garb from being conservative. It was the nicest thing she owned.

Regina had picked up the piece a few years back at an upscale outlet. The tear in the hemline had been easy to mend; yet the dress had sat unworn in her closet. No occasion had come up for her to wear the find. She wasn't exactly what most would call a social creature.

"Please, have a seat," Robin asked, pulling out the chair for Regina.

As she settled in the seat, he continued. "Close your eyes," he instructed and a moment later she did. Yet she could not resist peaking, opening one eye a sliver just in time to catch a large hand scooping up the bit of leather.

She could sense him behind her, then felt the soft coolness of the leather covering her eyes. There was a sudden gentle pressure as he secured the bow behind her head. Regina could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned over her shoulder to adjust the blindfold, then the warmth from his hands on her shoulders seemed to radiate right through the thin material that separated them. The touch sent a quiver straight to her belly and her body seemed to clench. His scent, something masculine and clean like freshly cut pine filled her nose and her mind went black for a moment.

"Not too tight," he asked.

She nodded her head no jerkily.

I need to get out more, she thought, trying to shake off the sensation.

"Let us begin then."

Regina could hear a tinkling sound. Then there was something cold against her lips, wet. She could feel the moisture bead and begin to slide down her chin as the object slid softly against her mouth.

"Ice," she guessed.

"Very good! That was an easy one," he said, and then she felt a light pat of something not quite scratchy against her face. A napkin.

Then there was the scent of something new. It was something spiced, a rich, but she could not quite place it.

"This one will be tougher," Robin said confidently, and Regina felt warmth against her lips. She opened her mouth and could felt a riot of flavors. She hummed deep in her throat, and slowed her mind to try and discern the flavors.

There was curry, she thought. Lemon. But what was underneath. Peppercorn? Yes. Ginger. A hint of cinnamon. She repeated this to Robin.

"That's quite a palate you've got there," he said with admiration. He fed her another bit of the dish. "Do you cook very often?" he asked, curious.

"I do. I didn't always, but once I was on my own I had to learn quickly. Cooking at home doesn't have to be all ramen noodles," she said pointedly.

"I didn't mean it like that. Not many people take the time to develop such a skill. It's a fine quality," he said, and her shoulders relaxed.

Regina could scent the full bouquet of a red wine, and he helped her take a sip.

Regina's eyes blinked as her eyes adjusted; the light that had seemed so low before now seemed to illuminate everything.

She smiled at Robin. "My turn now."

She rose from the chair, and pushed him down in to her place.

Regina carefully mimicked Robin's earlier actions, securing the blindfold over his eyes. She fished a piece of ice out of the silver container that held them, and ran it over his lips. She was no longer blinded, but it still felt like her senses were raw and sensitized.

Regina looked down and could see his pulse beating quickly at the base of his neck; she was not the only one affected. She ran the ice down lower, skating it over his pulse point, and there was a sharp intake of breath. Regina watched the strong column of his throat work as he swallowed. Would it be so bad to allow herself a little human touch?

"How does it feel to be the one in the hot seat?" she asked with a grin.

Regina reached for the platter, choosing what looked like some kind of chicken with rosemary, in a cream sauce. She spooned some to Robin.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"I've got nothing, to be honest. I'm fairly certain it's some kind of chicken?"

Her laughter echoed off the walls, and she tapered off with a delicate cough.

"Try me again," he asked, and she let him sample another dish. Nothing.

"You aren't very good at this," she said.

"What can I say? I'm English. It's all boiled meat and potatoes," he said with a grin, reaching up to release the tie.

"What do you say to getting out of here? Desert and a walk, perhaps? There must be some kind of park or bit of garden around here."

* * *

The pair strolled along a winding path at a nearby park, the way dotted with talk iron lampposts. The air was mild, and Regina could pick up a distant whiff of gardenia on the breeze.

Robin glanced over at her.

"I can see it there, you know. That trouble-maker smile. Don't deny it."

"I was… wild once. I mean that in the best of ways," she said, scrunching her nose. "Free."

"And you're not now?" He asked, tilting his head at her.

She took a deep breath. "Things change."

He nodded in understanding as they walked in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"I wonder sometimes if I was ever really free at all. Maybe, maybe the wings I had were just borrowed." She laughed at herself. "It's silly. That doesn't even make sense," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Sometimes we might not believe, but we are lucky enough to meet someone strong enough to believe for the both of us. That isn't silly," he said quietly.

Regina stopped suddenly, turning to Robin.

"Tell me one thing special to you," she asked. "About anything. A person, a place. Anything; say the first thing that comes to mind."

Robin looked away, and for a moment his face lived between light and shadow against the lamplight.

"There is one particular spot that I found when I was just a lad," he began in a faraway voice. "No other human beings are around for miles."

He walked over to a wooden bench, sitting and looking up in to the night sky, and Regina followed.

"There is a clearing in the middle of a dense thicket where you can stretch out in the tall grass. That isn't what makes it special though. When the weather is just right, it is like you are walking in the heavens, the stars shine so brightly. You almost feel like you're there, in heaven I mean, with all those who have been lost to you."

They sat in the quite for an endless minute.

Regina shivered, finally feeling the cool of the evening, and shrugged on her coat.

"I suppose I should say good evening and call a driver for you," he said. "It's getting late."

"You should," she agreed.

"Do you want me to?"

Their eyes met and Regina could feel that pull again. She couldn't look away, raising an unconscious hand to run her fingertips along his stubbled jaw.

"Not really," she sighed, dropping her traitorous hand.

"There is something you should know though. I don't kiss. I don't kiss anyone. My reasons are my own. And if you can live with that…" her fingers dug in to his shirt, bringing them face to face, "We can continue this talk at your place."

* * *

"So, why Titania?" he asked, pouring a glass of wine and handing it to her.

Regina settled back in to the deep cushions of the couch, staring in to the red liquid.

"_A Midsummer Night's Dream_ was my first ballet," she said softly.

"It was the first time you ever went to the ballet?" he asked.

"No it was the first time I ever danced the lead." Regina took a large sip from her glass.

Robin watched her, just listening.

"I was allowed to take ballet classes as a girl. It was the only good thing my father ever really did for me. After high school I was accepted at Adelphi University in Garden City pursuing my B.F.A. in Dance, but," she stopped. "it wasn't meant to be," she finished lamely.

"I think 'Titania' reminds me of who I was," Regina said after a minute.

"Why don't you show me something?" Robin prompted, taking her hands and leading her to the center of the sunken living room.

She laughed, "If you insist."

"First position: try to keep your feet are aligned and touching heel to heel. Knees together," she instructed, circling him, touching lightly to adjust his posture. "Try to turn out," she said, placing her hand on his lower back and lower abdomen, pushing forward.

Robin wobbled, but held on valiantly. Regina trailed her hands along his biceps placing them in to position.

"Very good," she chuckled. "Now second," she said, nudging his feet apart with her own and guiding him in to the new formation.

"I think that's all I can handle for now, unless you fancy seeing me flat on my face."

"Are you sure? This could be you by the end of the night," she teased, effortlessly sliding into position, extending her arms and lifting her right leg in a flat arabesque, her skirt riding forward to expose an expanse of smooth skin.

The air left the room as Robin approached her. Regina gently lowered her leg and Robin slid a large hand around her waist and drew her close.

* * *

_What am I doing? What am I doing?_ It ran through his mind like a litany. He had to touch her. Robin had to fight so hard against the urge to crush her to him and take her lips to his own, that it was almost physically exhausting. But he had to respect her wishes. But he could touch her and he wanted to do so more than anything in that moment.

This woman was kind. And funny. And so beautiful. She was dangerous. But he couldn't think about that now, not when she was rubbing against him, driving all coherent thought from his head.

They were all frantic fingers and limbs. Buttons scattered as her questing hands sought out new territory. He let out a guttural moan as she licked and bit a trail down his body. Coming to rest on her knees before him, she made quick work of his help, yanking it loose and undoing the barriers that separated them. His manhood sprang free and he lifted her lithe body. She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing with her powerful thighs. Shoving up her skirt, he pulled the damp cloth that separated them to one side and with a swift upward thrust he was home. Robin let out a guttural moan and stumbled forward to press her against the nearest wall. She was so tight, he thought, gripping her hips to gain better control as he plunged again and again in to her slick heat. They were both wound do tightly, he heard her cry out and he followed her over the edge to release far more quickly than either would have liked. Sweat soaked and exhausted, Robin scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

* * *

Regina felt boneless. Delicious and tired, and sore and utterly relaxed. She ran her hands over the sheets and stretched her body out and breathing deeply. Mostly, it had just been talking. After the impromptu dance lesson, they had made love with a ferocity that frightened her, and then lay in bed just sharing stories, hands gliding over each other as they spoke. She had felt like a starving man who has finally gotten a meal. Once she had begun, she couldn't stop talking until her body had decided to stop for her. As the sun rose, they dozed, lulled by the unusual warmth of another human being held close until a cold metallic buzzing broke the spell.

Reaching blindly over to answer, Robin had come instantly awake seconds in to the call. He left soon after to attend to an unexpected business matter, with a promise to return soon.

As far as Regina was concerned it was a one-night thing, but some part of her felt like it could be more. I mean, who asks a one-night stand to stay and get breakfast? Maybe she could tell him her name, see him again if he was in town. She wouldn't mind doing _that_ again at the very least, she thought as she left the bedroom to get coffee.

"Hello," Regina heard a small voice say, startling her. Suddenly she was very glad that she had accepted Robin's offer to send a driver and get her a change of clothes.

She looked around the spacious suite but didn't see anyone.

Suddenly she felt a tug at her sleeve and looked down. For a moment all she could see were a pair of owlish brown eyes staring up at her from underneath a mop of curly brown hair.

"Hello," she said back curiously. "How did you get in here?"  
"The front door," the boy replied innocently. "Are you a friend of my papa's?"

Understanding dawned on Regina. This child belonged to Robin. That dog.

"Yes," she said carefully, dropping to the boy's level. "Is your mother here?"

He shook his head no, sending the curls flying.

Oh good, she thought. That was something at least. But then felt like a complete ass at his next words.

"She's in heaven."

"Oh. I'm sorry," she said, but the boy had already moved on to something more interesting to him.

"Do you want to color?"

"Um, alright," she said, deciding to take the strange situation in stride. It's not like she could leave a five-year-old alone.

Regina managed to scrounge up some cookies and milk for him while the boy pulled out his coloring books and crayons.

"What's your name?" she asked him.

"Roland," he said, grinning at her.

"Well Roland, nice to meet you. I'm Regina, but that's just between us, ok?"

* * *

When Robin comes back to his suite he finds them watching TV.

"Tania" was stretched out on the couch with Roland tucked in to her side as some cartoon blared from the screen.

"Ok, who is that again?" he heard "Tania" ask, and Roland giggled and launched in to an animated explanation while she listened and nodded.

Roland was a sweet child, but he had trouble connecting with people he didn't know. He was a shy soul at times, but now he looked so happy. Robin felt an unfamiliar tightening in his chest at the sight, but he had to end it. And he would have to have a word with Little John as well. As much as the little scene had touched him, it did not change the fact that it was highly inappropriate for his young son to be in the company of… what was she? Can you call someone your lover if you've never made love and only just met? Not to mention the odd no kissing business.

The fact remained that she was a stripper. No, a pole dancer, he mentally corrected himself.

"Roland," he called.

"Papa!" the little boy squealed, running to jump in his father's arms.

"I need you to go to your room for a few minutes. 'Tania' and I need to speak alone for a moment," Robin explained.

The boy looked puzzled. "Who?"

Robin tipped his head toward Regina.

"Ooh, right," the child said, and gave Regina an exaggerated wink.

Roland slid down his father, running to where she stood. "I'll be right back," he assured her, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips.

"I'm sure you know this is terribly inappropriate," Robin began.

Regina walked over to him, saying nothing, her face a blank mask.

"I never wanted him to meet someone like you," he said.

At this, her cheeks flamed.

"Someone like me?" she asks in a low tone, hands curling in to fists.

"Temporary," he clarifies, eyes dark and unreadable.

"I thought all your whores met your son," she threw at him angrily.

"Last night was not something I normally do. I can't. I… I don't get attached to people," he tried to explain. "I had assumed you were the same, that it's what you wanted." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"You think I'm attached?" she scoffs. "What makes you think you know me so well?"

"I may have misjudged this situation, but there is one thing I am not wrong about. I see a distance and loneliness in you. I know because I see it in me too. Kindred souls if you like."

"You know, you're right," she said with a hollow laugh. She lifted her hands, but dropped them again, shaking her head. "You don't even know my name."

Regina grabbed her jacket, and headed for the door. "Screw you, and screw your bullshit analysis. I don't need it," she grit out between tightly clenched teeth.

She yanked open the door, turning back for a moment.

"Oh, and you're welcome for the free babysitting."

The door shook; it was shut with such force.

* * *

**What do you think? Was Robin an ass? Was he justified? Did they jump in to bed too soon? I would love to know what you think, good or bad.**


	3. Chapter 3

Shit. _Shit_.

He paced back and forth, running a hand through his short locks. Locksley, you are a complete ass, he admonished himself. He had seen her face in those last few moments and the scene played on repeat in his mind's eye.

Robin had finally met someone who stirred something in him and his first reaction was to hurt her. He couldn't let it end like this.

"Sod it," he said, sprinting out of the room. He jabbed the elevator button, but watching the slow crawl as floors lit up was pure torture. She was getting away.

Robin raced to the fire exit, taking the stairs two at a time, sliding down the railings, anything to speed himself along. Again, and again he repeated these actions until his lungs were burning. It felt like forever, but he knew if had been a minute or two. He burst though the exit door and in to the lobby, panting hard. She wasn't there.

He cut through the guests milling about the lobby, jogging to a hotel staff member hailing cabs. "Did you see a dark haired woman, slim, about 5 foot 5, dark jeans, a face that would stop traffic?"

The man nodded enthusiastically, "I put her in a cab 'bout a minute ago,"

Robin pushed the elevator button and stared up at the slowly moving light.

Fate had dropped an incredible gift at his feet, and his first reaction was to slap it away. Hell, he'd done more than that. He'd set it alight and stomped on it.

And now she was gone.

How could he find a woman when he didn't know her name? The club, he thought. He could find her there.

Or not.

Robin had been to that damnable club for the last two night straight, and she hadn't been working. Now a man with a build more like a semi-truck than a human had stopped him.

"You can't come in," the stone-faced man told him. "You've been red flagged."

"What?" Robin asked, incredulous.

The man tapped a printout still from a security camera.

"I'm not sure what you did to piss her off bud, but you are persona non grata in this club."

Robin ran a hand through his hair. "Will you at least tell her I came by?" he asked, but the big man just shrugged.

It was time to call in reinforcements.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to get the photo of every woman who went to a school with a dance program in Garden City over the last 10 years?"

Robin looked at the lanky blond man. "Should we make it 15? Just to be sure?"

"Do you realize what you're asking for? This will cost you. And take time."

"You came very highly recommended Mr. Nolan, and had to be flown in. Can you do it or not? It has already cost me. I have money, but what I don't have is time. My business here is already almost concluded."

Robin ran a frustrated hand over his mouth. "I made a mistake that I need to atone for," he said. "I have to find her; _you_ have to find her," Robin said, his voice rising.

"Call me David, please," the detective told him. "Finding people is what I do. Relax."

"Papa?" Robin heard his son call from the hallway.

"Roland, my boy, what are you doing up?" Robin asked the child, scooping him up in his arms.

"I could heard you," the boy said, rubbing his eyes. "Are you looking for Re…Ania?"

"Robin stilled. "What did you say?"

"Tania," the boy repeated, avoiding his father's eyes.

Robin set the child down, kneeling before him. "Roland, daddy needs to find his friend," he said slowly. "He said something he shouldn't have and needs to apologize."

The child shook his head no. "But I promised not to tell. You told me never to break a promise," the child said solemnly.

"I know," Robin said, running a hand over his son's curls. "But it is very important that I find her." He could see the boy wavering. "Please son."

"R'gina," Roland said, biting at his thumbnail.

"Regina?" Robin repeated, and the child nodded.

He sighed, and looked up at David hopefully. "Does that help?"

"It cuts down the work by a mile. I should have a name and address for you tomorrow," David said.

"You work quickly, then. Good," Robin said, standing.

"They don't call me Charming for nothing."

David looked around the drab little office, stacks of papers piled on every available surface. How hard could it be to charm information out of some sweet little old lady who ruled this cave? He leaned on the counter and tapped a bell for service.

"Coming!" a sweet, high voice called out.

A small, shorthaired woman hurried toward him, files overflowing in her arms.

"Sorry," she apologized, and placed the precarious pile on the counters edge where they promptly flopped right off.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "This is really not my day. I don't even wok in this department. I was asked to cover for someone," she explained.

David came around the counter to help the girl pick up the scattered papers.

"Thank you," she said.

"Always happy to help a girl in trouble," he said.

"Woman," she corrected, flicking a lock of dark hair from her eyes.

David straightened and smiled.

"Woman," he repeated. "I'm David," he said, sticking a hand out.

"Mary Margaret," she replied, slipping her hand in to his and giving it a surprisingly firm handshake. "What can the records office do for you?"

"Well," he drawled, "I'm here on a case actually. I'm looking for a girl who attended the Dance B.F.A. program here in the last 10 years, First names Regina.

Mary Margaret gave him a dubious look. "I can't just let you look through student files."

Damn it, he could see her withdrawing.

"Have you ever been in love Mary Margaret?" he asked, looking in to her flecked green eyes.

She shook her head. "No."

"Well, I've got a friend who is. This girl… this woman is his second chance. Love, true love, is rare; some of us spend our whole life just trying to find it. You don't want to stand in the way of true love, do you?"

Without realizing it, David's hand found itself wrapped in Mary Margaret's.

She cracked a small smile.

"Well, I suppose if we went through the files together on my break…" she relented.

A broad grin bloomed on David's face. "I'll order the pizza."

Regina went to the coffee maker, pouring a steaming cup of the brown liquid for herself as she tried to work up the energy to utilize the club's practice space. The cup was a crude thing, clearly fashioned by a child's hand. Henry had given it to her a few years ago and she found that it comforted her. She could use that now.

He had come looking for her. She hadn't expected that.

Regina had thought she was wasting her time by bothering to red flag Robin; he would never actually come looking for her.

When Tiny had told her that Robin had come the last three nights to see her, Regina felt a flutter in her stomach, and she hated herself for that. There was only so much disappointment she could take.

What's the use of building up armor if little pricks still get through, she thought mirthlessly, and drained her coffee.

Regina settled herself down and stripped off her jacket and track pants, leaving only spandex shorts and a half t-shirt, slipping on legwarmers. She had come to the club's back studio to work on a new routine, but with the mood she was in lord only knew what kind of dance she's produce this week. Would the men pay to watch her eat donuts and flip them off? Hmm, maybe not that.

It was just so unfair, she thought stretching the arches in her feet, rolling back and forth on her toes.

Regina rolled her shoulders stretching up and over. For a moment she had allowed herself to have that most dangerous of feelings: hope. It wasn't even about the guy, just the feeling that maybe she could have more someday. And then it was gone.

Regina pressed play on the sound system, choosing an old 90s song to fit her mood and deep base filled the room.

She began with hesitancy, slinking over to a single pole in the practice room. Regina planted the balls of her feet near the base of the steel, bending forward to grip the pole, thrusting her backside out.

_Breathe it in and breathe it out  
And pass it on, it's almost out  
We're so creative, so much more  
We're high above but on the floor_

Her back muscles tensed before releasing as she stretched up, spreading her legs. She sunk down in a deep plié. Still clutching the cold metal with one hand, she leaned back as the other trailed over her torso, then her breast, finally extending behind her.

_It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive  
If you don't have it you're on the other side_

She wound slowly like a snake up the pole, pressing her body close. Regina let the words flow around her, losing herself in the moment, her body rolling in waves with the beat. She twirled around the pole, stopping when her back pressed to it. Regina slid her hands up to rod, letting her hips push upward. As she arched she pressed her face against the steel, a cool metallic kiss against her cheek.

_The deeper you stick it in your vein  
The deeper the thoughts, there's no more pain  
I'm in heaven, I'm a god  
I'm everywhere, I feel so hot_

Regina sat back slowly, one hand still wound around the pole. She brushed over her thigh before righting herself, and throwing herself in to another spin. Tricks required all of her focus, as even well trained muscles protested against the strain.

_It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive  
If you don't have it you're on the other side  
I'm not an addict (maybe that's a lie)_

She landed gracefully, and let her body descend to the floor. Regina crawled forward on her knees in long thrusts, her head lolling. It was exhausting. She wanted exhausting.

It's over now, I'm cold, alone  
I'm just a person on my own  
Nothing means a thing to me  
(Nothing means a thing to me)

Why was it all so unfair? Every time she started to open herself up to someone she got stomped on. Things never worked out. Henry. Robin. Maybe she was just never meant to have a happy ending.

Regina pushed back, still on her knees, her back now on the floor. She arched. Pulsed. She gave in to the languid stretch. Finally Regina seemed to crumple in and roll, slapping her hand against the pole to lift herself back up.

_Free me, leave me  
Watch me as I'm going down  
Free me, see me  
Look at me, I'm falling and I'm falling._

Regina pushed away from the steel, gliding over the floor with a delicate chasse, her feet moving quickly in to a pas de bourrée, prepping for turn. She spun again, and again, and again on the ball of one foot, the other whipping in fouetté after fouetté. Regina could feel her movements becoming more forceful, as if she could fight away the thoughts that plagued her.

Robin eyes traced the lines of her body as she lets the music flow through her. It was magic. It was pain.

The world fell away as she threw herself into the stretches and movements, blending technique to express feelings too raw to reveal in words. His eyes fought to be free of her, but he could not look away.

He watched as her concentration broke and she stumbled out of a turn. The spell was broken with it and he went to her, reaching to help her up.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in? Get out," she said flatly, yanking her arm away. "This is private property, and you have no right."

"I've always had a knack for getting past barriers," Robin shrugged, backing away a bit. "A key doesn't hurt either," he says, and put raised one hands up to let the silver metal gleam in the lowered light.

"No. I don't care who you bribed to get that. You get out, or I do."

"Two minutes, please. I just needed to… apologize. Explain. What you make of it is up to you, but you deserve to hear it," he said.

They stared at each other. Robin held his breath, certain that she would not relent.

"Two minutes," she said tersely, and grabbed a towel to pat herself dry.

She was willing to listen. That was something. But now that he had her in front of him, Robin had no idea what to say. He would try the truth, if he could force it around the confusion that seemed to clog his throat. For a moment he was terrified that nothing would come out, and managed a strangled cough.

"I don't know how to do this anymore. Connect with people," he began, loosening his tie.

He swallowed hard, continuing. "My wife died a few years back and… to say I've been closed off would be generous."

Robin stood, unsure.

"Her death was my fault. I've never been able to let that guilt go. I try to make up for what I've done, but it's never enough." He looked away, almost talking to himself. "As time has passed the kind man she loved has been slowly worn away. Sometimes I don't even recognize myself; it's only when I look at Roland that I remember."

Robin turned back to Regina, and their eyes met.

This. This was something he was sure of.

"I felt connected to you almost instantly, and I was frightened to be quite honest. I don't want to forget her. So I hid behind my son. I hid behind propriety. I hid behind judgments. You are smart, talented, warm. You are the first woman to interest me in… a very, very long time. It's cliché, but it really isn't you, it's me. I am the one who is not worthy." He turned to look out the window. "Everything is all tangled up in my head. You don't want that. An emotionally complicated widower with young son is not an ideal situation for most women. I'm not proud of all this, but I thought you should know."

Robin had hoped to convince her to feel out whatever was between them, but maybe she was better off without him. What could he offer her?

His eyes searched her face, finding it impassive.

"Thanks for listening," he said, and gave a short bow. His steps felt too loud against the hard wood floor.

"Wait," she called out.

"You weren't the only one." She rolled her eyes at herself and sighed.

"You weren't the only one to feel the connection," she admitted. "And you weren't the only one who was frightened."

Robin walked over to where Regina stood. "Tell me your name."

"Why? You found me here. You must know it by now."

"Tell me your name."

"How can I trust you?"

"I can't answer that for you."

Her lips pressed in to a line as she studied his face.

"Regina."

They sat on the studio floor, and Regina played with the hem of her tracksuit bottoms. It was hard to have a heart to heart when one of you wasn't wearing pants.

"I can understand my fears, but yours?" he probed gently.

Regina lay back, and stared at the ceiling.

"My first love Daniel died because of me. Because he loved me," she said, and felt her eyes redden with unshed tears.

She began to count the squares in the ceiling tiles.

"He was such a special person. I've never met anyone more naturally kind. He wanted to be a chef. Went to culinary school and everything." She sniffed. "He was always trying to get me to try some new dish he was working on," she said with a sad smile. "One night, just like any other, he dropped me off at my parents place and we kissed goodbye. But I had a fight with my mother, so I called him and he was coming back to get me. He never saw the drunk driver who hit him."

"That's why you never wanted to kiss anyone again?" Robin asked.

She nodded, finally letting her eyes meet his. "I just thought if he could always be the last person I kissed, that in some small way I could keep him close to me."

Regina let out a harsh bark of laughter. "So, that's all our messy cards on the table. Now what? We talk old childhood traumas?"

"Well, I did have one very questionable nanny," Robin said thoughtfully, "but I don't think massive body odor and halitosis counts as abuse."

She shook her head, "Not exactly." She sat up.

Robin scooted closer to her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Regina closed her eyes, breathing in the moment.

"Perhaps we are both a bit of a mess," he said lightly, placing his hand over hers. "But perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if we were with someone who understood."

He tilted his head to catch her eye.

"Perhaps," she agreed.

For the first time in recent memory she felt lightness in her heart.

**A/N: So, are we less mad at Robin now? I hope so! Let me know what you think ;)**

**Also, a HUGE thank you to Grace. You're a rock star.**


	4. Chapter 4

_For Luh. Thank you for the reminders to finish this. xoxo_

Regina's head whipped in the direction of the door.

"I hope I wasn't too long," Robin said, that cocky smile touching his lips.

She tried to fight the grin that she felt growing at the sight of him, but gave up.

He strolled over to where she still sat in the middle of the rehearsal room, a bottle of merlot in one hand, and two plastic wine glasses in the other.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Short notice," he said.

"I'm really not concerned with the quality of our glassware at the moment," she replied, her eye raking over him.

He flopped down beside her on the wooden floor, and passed her a glass.

"I've always believed that the start of something new should be celebrated with a toast," he said, twisting the corkscrew into the bottle's seal.

"Is that what we're doing here, starting something new?" she asked carefully, desire banked behind something fragile in her eyes.

"I'd like that. Let's start again," he said. He watched as she took a sip from the glass.

She nodded, bowing her head. Dark locks fell forward, obscuring her face from his view.

Robin reached forward, running a hand through her hair to tuck the strand behind one ear. He tilted her face toward him, their eyes connecting. She felt the spark shoot straight to her stomach. Regina's lips parted softly as she moved in front of him. She leaned in to kiss him, and Robin reveled in the acidic taste of the wine laced over the sweetness of her lips.

He leaned in to her, gently pushing her on to her back. The kiss lingered on, neither of them willing to break away. Who needed air when you could have this?

Robin trailed a hand along the smooth exposed skin of Regina's midriff, weaving a warm path over the chilled flesh. Without the heat of the dance to sustain her, the sweat had cooled Regina, but Robin's touch was quickly chasing away any thought of the cold.

Regina relaxed into his arms as the pair simply existed in the 's hand played along the curve of her breast. The rough pad of one thumb brushed over her nipple. Regina arched into his hand.

Robin surged over her, blotting out everything, filling her vision. Caught in his fierce blue gaze all she could see was reduced to just this. Just him. A deep ache slithered through her body, making her feel heavy, clumsy. Roughened hands slid the hem of her top of fire touched her as his open mouth blazed a sloppy wet trail downward along her ribcage, and for a moment she felt shyness overtake her when she realized his intent. Regina wore no seductive armor, only the scent of Dove soap and sweat from her dancing. He felt her still, and sensing her hesitation Robin looked up from between her thighs where he poised to reveal her sex.

"There is no place I'd rather be," he said, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. He placed a soft kiss against her inner thigh and helped her remove the cloth barriers.

Regina tried not to buck when she felt him make contact, pressing his mouth to her flesh. He licked at her seam, thrusting his tongue in and out of her at a leisurely pace. His lips moved to her sensitized bud, his fingers replacing his mouth. Regina could feel the twisting desire coiling at the base of her spine. She pressed her knees to the sides of his head, trapping him to her. If he pulled away in that moment, she wasn't sure she could stop herself from strangling him. As the tremors began to take her, Regina's thighs opened for him. Robin continued his ministrations, but wiped his mouth and moved closer to face. He watched as her pleasure overcame her, relishing the sound of his name on her lips.

"How was that?" he whispered in her ear.

"It was alright, I suppose," she said, "but don't get cocky."

He simply smiled.

She pressed her face to the base of Robin's throat. Their heavy breathing filled the room.

"What are we doing?"

"I have no idea," he said with a sharp laugh. Regina ran a hand over his lightly stubbled cheek.

"I can think of something we can do while we figure it out," she said, her hand moving toward his waistband. He stilled her.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. If we go any further, I'll take you right here on the floor," he replied.

She gave his waistband another pull, and he burst out laughing.

He took her hands as they stood up. "Our fresh start will not be consummated on a rental dance floor my lady," he said playfully, lifting her hand to place a gentle kiss on the tips of her fingers.

For a moment Regina felt the oddest buzzing, but attempted to shake it off.

"Such a gentleman," she murmured. "But this lady wouldn't mind a little ravishment, so don't make me wait too long," she said with a wink and a mock curtsey.

"As mi'lady commands. But first we have to pick up Roland."

_We._ Her eyes widened in surprise.

He flushed, pink creeping up just behind his ears. "If you don't mind, that is. I would like it very much if we picked him up."  
Regina bit her lip. "I would like that very much."


End file.
